


Something About Us

by lesbienne



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Spark Sexual Interfacing, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 14:56:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15584439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbienne/pseuds/lesbienne
Summary: This is literally just 1,582 words of self-indulgent sickeningly sweet driftrod smut





	Something About Us

**Author's Note:**

> I stole the title from Daft Punk because I was listening to Something About Us almost the entire time I was writing this. Feel free to listen to it while you read it so you don't notice how I barely proofread this

Rodimus was laid down and spread out on a probably-overly-blanketed berth, optics dim while he enjoyed the gentle and borderline reverent touches of the mech above him. He hummed and grazed his hand over one of Drift’s finials as he ghosted his lips above Rodimus’ valve cover. And it was so nice, but just that one almost-touch had his patience quickly draining away. He whined as Drift abandoned the spot and kissed up his torso instead, licking in between well-mapped sensitive seams. The slagger in question looked up at the noise, smiling _all_ too smugly. “Something wrong, Rodi?” he asked, sliding one hand up his lover’s pretty chassis to pay some attention to his spoiler instead.

Rodimus almost glared at Drift, but the look was immediately softened by the touch on his spoiler and the bright, beautiful optics looking back at him. “What’s wrong is that you _know_ what I want,” he said, arching up to meet his hips with Drift’s, hoping for some contact of their arrays. “And I’d _really_ like you to get on with it, as nice as this is.” 

Drift laughed and gently pressed his helm against Rodimus’, leaning in like he was going to kiss him and then infuriatingly not doing it. “Patience is a virtue,” he whispers. “And I was enjoying how hot your gorgeous frame gets under my touch like this.” Rodimus can’t protest, because then Drift _is_ kissing him, glossa parting his lips and he was all too eager to return that kiss. He moans, genuine but a little showy and hooks a leg behind the other mech’s back, hoping to spur him into doing something more. Drift smiles into the kiss and Rodimus is pretty sure his spark stops for just a second. 

Drift breaks the kiss first to take Rodimus’ hand and lightly kiss his palm instead, venting heavily and breathing out words he’d said thousands of times, and had never lost the meaning behind them. “I love you.” 

That, nothing else, is what gets the red mech’s valve cover snapping back with a click, faceplates heating up like they do every time Drift says those words and looks at him like that with his stupid perfect face. He whispers back, breathless. “I love you, too.” And he means it. He’s meant it for years – Drift means everything to him, and Rodimus plans on letting him know that every day for the rest of forever. 

Drift kisses him again, deep and slow, as he reaches down to tease at Rodimus’ valve, digits ghosting over his anterior node and sliding into his folds. More impatient than ever, Rodimus wriggles his hips as one of those fingers slips inside him, wanting more of that touch and deeper. Drift bites down gently on Rodimus’ lower lip for the slight transgression and removes his finger, ignoring the whine from the mech below him as he spreads lubricant across the valve’s lips and adds two more digits to the first. Rodimus gasps and really does grind down now, and mercifully Drift lets him, choosing to watch his pretty face as he works to prepare him instead of “punishing” him. Rodimus makes sure to make the show as good as possible, for as long as he could focus. 

Above him Drift continues fingering him for what seems like eons, rubbing against his anterior node with his free digit and going from kissing Rodimus’ neck to his lips to his collar. His cooling fans whirred loudly as his charge was steadily built up, engine revving each time Drift curls his fingers inside him and scissors and, Primus, he could overload just like this – 

And then Drift stopped. Rodimus made a noise of annoyance and chased after Drift’s hand with his hips, to no avail. The hand was brought up to its owner’s mouth and was diligently licked clean, Drift maintaining eye contact with Rodimus all the while and that was _so hot_ but he knew Drift’s spike was hard and straining behind his panels and his valve practically had a puddle of lubricant underneath it and he couldn’t do slow anymore. He took advantage of Drift’s preoccupation and carefully but quickly switched their positions, pinning the white mech underneath him and straddling his lap, bared valve leaking on his spike cover. Drift recovered from his surprise quickly and his engine revved loudly as Rodimus ground against him, hands quickly finding their place on his shapely hips. 

Not getting what he was going for immediately, Rodimus pouted. He spread his hands across Drift’s chassis and leaned down, closer to his face. “Are you gonna open up or do you just want me to sit on your face instead?” he asked, fighting back a shit-eating grin because he knew that question would get him what he wanted. It had to, because he was running out of ammo short of begging. 

Drift pretends to consider for a moment, taking one hand to place it on the face above him and kissing Rodimus again. Drift lets his spike cover snap back before he breaks the kiss and Rodimus feels it pressurize against him, notes Drift biting his lip as he resists the urge to buck up into the feeling. Rodimus smirks and moves back slightly as he wraps one hand around arguably one of his favorite parts of Drift’s anatomy (there was a very long list though), dragging it slowly from base to tip and taking a moment to swipe a thumb across the head, reveling in the shiver it earned him. 

Drift does answer – something about either option being good – but Rodimus barely hears him as he lifts his hips up and positions himself over the spike below him, keeping his hands on the chassis he’d have to take more time to tease later as he sank down onto his prize and bottomed out. He moaned loudly and looked down at Drift, still biting his bottom lip, faceplates hot and his own cooling fans on high. He was twitching slightly, probably trying to stop himself from moving before Rodimus was ready. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Rodimus smiled dumbly down at him. Primus, Drift was beautiful; and he felt _so damn good_ buried in his valve. Venting harshly he lifted himself back up, slowly, trying to draw out the look of concentration on Drift’s face. He reached the tip and practically slammed himself back down on the awaiting length, barely stopping himself from screaming as his dissipated charge quickly shot back up and sent a zip of pleasure from his array to his spark. Drift did yell, gripping his hips and probably leaving dents as he bucked up into Rodimus, pushing him down on his spike further. 

Grinning, Rodimus started up a more consistent pace that was easily met by Drift, pressure and friction translating to bliss that was rapidly climbing towards overload. The pace was broken when Rodimus opened up his chestplates, baring his spark and leaning down towards Drift’s own as if drawn there by a magnet. Drift quickly opened his own to meet his partner’s, both of them moaning deeply as bright blue light met and Drift was still bouncing Rodimus in his lap. Rodimus swore it was the best thing he’d ever felt, that nothing could ever compare to being able to feel their love and charge surrounding both of them while Drift was inside him. He couldn’t tell who overloaded first, although he was vaguely aware of himself crying out - and it didn’t really matter – nothing mattered but the spark in front of him overflowing with charge and mingling with his own and the hands gripping his hips like he was their owner’s last lifeline. 

Steam from the heat of both their frames surrounded them as they came down from their overloads, chestplates closing of their own accord, sparks sated. Rodimus carefully slid off Drift after a few moments of catching his breath, lying on his side next to him instead. Smiling, he reached over to pet Drift’s finials again. They were just so damn adorable. Drift hummed in contentment and rolled over to look at him, and Rodimus imagined they both looked pretty fraggin’ happy. Drift looked particularly alluring after a good overload, so no one could blame Rodimus for leaning in to kiss him again. And again, and again, two sets of hands finding each other and pulling their bodies as close as physically possible without merging their sparks again. 

Rodimus was pretty sure he could die happy like this, and protested when Drift suggested they should get up to shower.   
“It’s fine, we can do it in the morning.”  
“You say that every time, and every time you’re grumpy when you inevitably wake up sticky.”   
That, he couldn’t protest. He let Drift help him up and to the washracks they shared, let Drift wash his back and returned the favor (and if he sneaked in a couple of teasing touches and aft grabs, there were no complaints). 

When they were clean and the messy sheets were changed out, Rodimus laid down with his helm close to Drift’s spark, listening to it humming like the perfect lullaby. He felt a hand in his sign “I love you”, because neither of them ever got tired of saying it. Rodimus felt like his cheeks were gonna fall off from smiling so much in one night and signed back something like “Always stay with me” (his hand wasn’t the best, yet).  
And he meant it.


End file.
